


liar

by adaptation



Category: VH - A Harry Potter Roleplay Site
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 12:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4479593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adaptation/pseuds/adaptation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Don’t you think you’re a little young to be at a place like this?”</p><p>“Perhaps,” he said quietly.  “What sort of place is this?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	liar

PERHAPS THIS HADN’T been such a good idea.

Scorpius stood awkwardly in the corner of Jared Trice’s apartment, a barely-touched beer in his hand as he surveyed the crowd.  Julian had head that his brother was throwing a party, and had decided that Seb should go with him.  Scorpius had been invited almost as an afterthought, because Seb thought he needed to get out more and have a little fun, but that was easier said than done, as far as the Malfoy was concerned.  Seb and Julian had disappeared within ten minutes of their arrival, and Scorpius was left to his own devices.

This led to him standing in approximately the same spot for nearly half an hour, tilting the mouth of his beer in greeting at passersby and occasionally making small talk with drunk twenty-somethings.  He was debating the pros and cons of seating himself on the already-overcrowded sofa when an older boy appeared to the left of him and said cheekily, “Stop looking at the beer and drink it.  S’what it’s there for.”  Scorpius merely glared and took a defiant sip from the lip of the bottle. “Don’t you think you’re a little young to be at a place like this?”

Only then did Scorpius turn to look at Lacer, for that’s who was talking to him. Lacer Putus, the party’s guest of honour.  There had been a rumour circulating that this party had been thrown as a way for Lacer to get back out into society after impregnating and leaving his Hufflepuff girlfriend. Scorpius would never ask if this was true, but he took the opportunity to size Lacer up and form his own opinion.

“Perhaps,” he said quietly.  “What sort of place is this?”

“A bad place, full of bad people.  Might be a little too much for someone like you.”  It was obvious from the glint in his hazel eyes that he was just teasing, but Scorpius couldn’t help but feel a bit prickled.

“And how would you know what kind of person I am?  We barely know each other?”

“Because you’ve not even touched your drink, and any idiot could see you’re not having a good time.  You should try and relax a little – try something stronger, if you’re up for it?”

He gave a single nod in response, and a bottle of sambuca materialized in Lacer’s hand from somewhere behind them.  Lacer pulled the cap off and passed the bottle toward Scorpius, who took a liberal sip, although the saccharine liquid made him grimace. He thought he could feel a cavity forming as he swallowed.

“Not bad,” he said, despite the comical look on his face.

“Neither are you, kid.”  Lacer took the bottle back, his fingers brushing Scorpius’s, and their gazes connected, Scorpius’s eyes narrowing with fleeting suspicion.  “Do you want to try something different?  Not a drink, though.  Something else.”

The look he gave Lacer then was wary.  “Like what?”

“Don’t look so bloody scared,” Lacer said, his tone again taking on that teasing quality.  “A _conversation_. You do remember what one of them is? You’ve barely had one drink, don’t tell me you’ve conked out already.”

Irritation pursed Scorpius’s lips.  “We can talk.”

“Not here, we can’t; the music is making me half-deaf already. Jared’s room.  It’ll be quieter in there.”  There was a challenging quality to his voice, but Scorpius didn’t immediately rise to it.  It wasn’t until Lacer cocked an eyebrow at him and said, “Man up a bit.  Don’t be such a chicken,” that Scorpius agreed and followed along behind him.

Lacer nudged open the door to Jared’s room and waited for Scorpius to enter before he closed the door.  At the finality of the click the latch made as it hitched, the blond hesitated. Lacer leaned back against the hip-high dresser across from the bed and eyed him up.  “You really should loosen up, you know.  S’not good for you, being so uptight.”

In spite of himself, Scorpius tensed on the spot.  “I’m not uptight.”

Lacer had dipped and begun to rifle through Jared’s dresser. When his hand withdrew from the top drawer, his lean fingers were clutching a crumpled back of cigarettes. He withdrew one, placed it between his lips, and held the pack out to the Malfoy.  “Prove it,” he challenged around the filter.

“Fuck,” Scorpius exhaled under his breath, leaning forward to take one of the cigarettes.  Lacer lit both the sticks, and Scorpius took a slow drag, exhaling before his lungs filled too much with the acrid smoke.  He took a sip from his yeasty beer to wash away the taste of nicotine.

“Thank Merlin.”  Lacer’s tone was chipper now, if a little disbelieving.  “You’re what, sixteen?”  _Fifteen, actually_ , Scorpius thought, but didn’t correct him.  “You should ask your mates the kind of stuff they did at your age.  It’d be far worse than a bit of drink and a smoke, I promise you that.”

No doubt that was true.  Sebastian and Julian had always had an air of relaxation about them that he’d envied. “Not everyone has the luxury of being so caution-to-the-wind.”

“I don’t see why not: you’d never have any fun otherwise. Besides, it’s just one night – more a learning curve.  It’s not like it’ll kill you.”  It was a curious way Lacer looked at him; like he was a challenge, something to be attempted and hopefully mastered.

“Fun won’t,” Scorpius agreed with a hint of a smile, “but my father might.” The mix of alcohol and nicotine must have been getting to his head; he never would have said something like that normally.  As if to placate his conscience, he took another drag on his cigarette as Lacer paused thoughtfully.

“Good thing he’s not here, then.  You can’t tell me you do everything he tells you to do.”

“Of course not.  But I know when to pick my battles.”

“Sounds smart.”  He took several swallows of beer, draining half the bottle in record time in an attempt to look like he didn’t think it tasted like swill.  “What would he say if he knew you were here, having a good time?”

Scorpius considered the question.  “He wouldn’t have a problem with this,” he decided, “but he’d tell me to watch what I’m drinking.  Getting sloshed isn’t dignified.”

“Dignity is for pensioners and saddacts.  You do want to have fun, don’t you?  Y’know, there are other things to do rather than get wasted.”

Another few swallows of the beer.  If he’d known what a bad after-school special was...  “Such as?”

“You’re a smart kid.”  Amusement danced in Lacer’s eyes, and Scorpius felt a low sense of dread come over him. “You figure it out.”

Before he could even begin to think of a response, Lacer was in front of him, close enough that Scorpius had to tilt his head back to look him in the eye. Being only five-foot-six, this was unsurprising, but he wished then, not for the first time, that he’d grow faster.  Then Lacer’s head started to dip toward his, and Scorpius jerked back so hard he backed right into the dresser, thunking the heel of his foot against it painfully. He winced, and sputtered, “Oh, um – I’m not… um, gay.  Sorry, if you got the wrong idea.”

“S’alright.” Lacer paused, considering him curiously. “If you’re sure. How’d you even know if you are something or you’re not, unless you give it a go?”

“Well, I –”  His response was cut off in suspicion, and he eyed the older boy warily.  Awkwardly, because the words were odd and foreign on his tongue, he asked, “Are you trying to take advantage of me?” It might have come out as a teasing question, if he wasn’t so tense when he asked it.

The brunette scoffed.  “No, ‘course not. I’m being a bad influence, which is a totally different kettle of fish.  But I could always get your mates to take you home if it gets a bit too much for you? Wouldn’t want you getting scared.”

“I’m not scared,” he blurted, the magic words having been spoken and his Defensive switch flipped.

“It’s alright if you are.”  Lacer shrugged.  “I’ll go get what’s-his-name to hold your hand.  The blond guy? He’ll take care of you.”

“Why would I be scared of you?”  The words came out far more insulting than he’d intended.  “You’re clearly a coward, leaving your pregnant girlfriend.”

“At least I’m not a naïve little kid pretending he’s got a clue.” Any viciousness disappeared entirely from Lacer’s eyes a split second later, replaced by a congenial grin that threw Scorpius off something fierce.  “Do you want another drink?”

His face flushed from the verbal smack he’d received, he said tensely, “Whatever you’ve got.”

Lacer slipped from the bedroom then.  He leaned back against the dresser, and then Scorpius drained the remainder of his beer, putting out his nearly-finished cigarette in the piss at the bottom of the bottle just as the elder boy returned.  He held up a bottle of Ogden’s and a pair of matching shot glasses.

“Ever done shots?” he asked.  Before Scorpius could respond, Lacer had made up his mind.  “Why am I asking – you really haven’t done anything, have you?”

“I’ve done plenty,” Scorpius insisted, his voice taut with anger. “Pour me one.”

“Not such a swot after all.”  Tipping the bottle to the glass, Lacer poured him a shot of the firewhiskey. “Alright, but down in one.” Obediently, the nearly-fifth year downed the shot, coughing a bit into his fist, and then laid the glass back on the oak top of the dresser for a refill.  Lacer topped him up, a blatantly amused look dancing on his features. “You’d better be able to handle this,” he cautioned.

With another flick of his wrist, Scorpius downed the second shot, this time without coughing.  “Don’t worry about me. I’m not a baby.”

Lacer’s eyes flickered over him.  “I can see that.”  Once more, he began to refill Scorpius’s glass.  “D’you like it? It’s a bit on the cheap side, but it’s not half bad once you’ve made a start.  Like most things, really.”

“It goes down a bit rough at first,” the blond answered thoughtfully, “but once you’re used to it, it’s alright.”  As if to prove his point, he drained the shot glass again. Only then did he notice that Lacer had yet to do a single shot.  “What are you, all talk?”

The smirk on the alumni’s lips worried him just slightly.  “No, not usually.”  He downed a swallow and refilled.  “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Hardly,” Scorpius sneered.  “But I could ask you the same question.”  He laid his shot glass down, this time letting his fingers leave it completely. He’d just begun to notice that the edges of things were a bit blurry now, and his Ls were a bit more pronounced than usual.  He resolved to slow down before he wound up with his head in the toilet and Seb laughing at him from the doorway.

“S’true, but I think you’re already halfway there.”  Lacer’s voice was amused.  “And what if I am trying to?”

“Then I’d think you’re succeeding,” Scorpius announced with uncharacteristic lack of hesitation.  “Top me up.”

Lacer did as he requested, and then took a long sip from his own glass. “You didn’t answer my earlier question.” Scorpius arched an eyebrow at him. “How do you know you’re not – well, y’know – unless you try it?  You wouldn’t still be here if you weren’t curious.”

Curious? Bollocks.  “How does anybody know?” he said with a ‘poppycock’ sort of wave of his hand.  “I’ve never looked at a bloke and thought, ‘Wow, I’d really like to snog him.’”

“You try it and see how it feels, that’s how you know.”  His voice was so sure, so steady, that Scorpius had to look at him. “You could try it now. We could kiss properly this time, and see.”  The suggestion was light enough, quiet, and Scorpius considered it quietly.

If he was looking at it objectively, he’d have to admit that Lacer was a relatively attractive man.  His hair was very, very dark, a sharp contrast to Scorpius’s own, and his eyes were a few shades lighter.  He had at least half a foot on him height-wise, but looked about equally as scrawny. Still, his clothes fit him well, and he had an impudent sort of lilt to his mouth that irritated Scorpius a bit just looking at it.  And, no matter what the topic of conversation, there was a challenging glint in his eye that made Scorpius’s teeth grind.

“Fine, then.  But if you tell anyone, you’ll wake up the next day on fire.”  This said, he downed the newest shot in his glass and dropped the empty tumbler to the dresser.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”  Lacer’s fingers caught Scorpius’s, and he began to pull the younger boy toward the bed. “No worries, we’re both too drunk to do much more than sit.”

Scorpius sat.  His knees were bent over the edge of the mattress, and Lacer leaned over him, his hands resting on his knuckles on either side of Scorpius’s thighs.  They were awkwardly close together for people who weren’t touching, and Scorpius swallowed hard, his dark grey eyes having trouble focusing on Lacer.  Hesitation danced within him, and, as if reading his mind, Lacer softly said, “You don’t have to, if you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” he exclaimed angrily.  Malfoys weren’t afraid of anything.  “Just do it.”

He did. Lacer’s mouth was hot and hard against his, manipulating his lips open for his tongue.  It swept purposefully through his mouth, tasting every inch of it, and one strong hand held the back of his head in place so that Scorpius couldn’t weasel out of it if he’d wanted to.  For a few shaky heartbeats, he was too stunned to do anything but sit there and be thoroughly snogged, but then his senses came back to him in a rush, and his fingers were in Lacer’s hair, the other hand curling into the shirt he wore. Then there was a _whoosh_ , and Scorpius was flat on his back, with Lacer’s knee between his thighs, leaning over him.  They were still kissing, fast and wetly.

Dimly, Scorpius thought that this wasn’t what he’d meant to happen. If he didn’t stop Lacer, things would undoubtedly get out of hand.  If he did, he was putting on a giant sandwich board that said in block letters “I CAN’T HANDLE THIS.”

Lacer cupped his crotch, and Scorpius felt himself swell traitorously in his jeans.

“Try to keep up.”

Magic words.

The flare of temper inside Scorpius was sharply incongruous to the gentle, soothing way Lacer kissed him, as though he knew how much his smartass little comments bothered the Malfoy, and apologized for them with his hands and mouth. At some point, Scorpius’s shirt had become unbuttoned, and Lacer’s knuckles were dusting over his abdomen teasingly, just as his teeth nipped Scorpius’s bottom lip.

The button on his jeans was the next to go, and then the zipper, and Scorpius tensed with terrified anticipation as Lacer’s hand breached the waistband of his boxers.  Lacer hesitated there, his damp lips brushing Scorpius’s ear.  “If it gets too much, I’ll stop.”  When he received no protest, he pressed onward.

Scorpius was already nearly at full-mast when Lacer’s fingers wrapped around him, and whatever size was left to be gained by a full-blown erection was gained swiftly thereafter, even under the constraints of denim. Immediately at the contact, a pitiful and involuntary whimper escaped his mouth, and Lacer chuckled, teasingly asking, “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

Instead of attempting to form a suitable insult, Scorpius growled in exasperation, his fingers tugging at Lacer’s shirt for lack of anything better to do. Lacer caught onto his dilemma quickly and curled his free hand around Scorpius’s wrist, directing it below the belt. Brief hesitation caused Lacer to still his stroking and ask, “You all right?”

“Fine,” Scorpius said stiffly, and tugged open Lacer’s trousers. He shoved them down with one swift movement, and Lacer’s burgeoning erection sprang free, right into his waiting palm. His fingers shook just slightly as he curled them around the shaft of Lacer’s cock.  He gave a tentative, experimental stroke.

Nervousness and the confines of his pants dulled the sensation of Lacer’s own work, and then his own pants were gone, off completely, but his mind was too fuzzy to figure out how or where they’d gone.  He cursed harshly when Lacer’s hand returned, hot and quick on his skin, and his own strokes stilled as he arched off the bed and into Lacer’s calloused hand.  How people could do this properly to each other at the same time was beyond him.  He could feel orgasm quickly approaching, and, it had only been, what, five minutes? But nobody but him had ever touched his dick before.

Embarrassed and not wanting to Lacer to know, he shoved Lacer’s hand away, and the hazel eyes that met his grey were questioning, and the slightest bit disappointed. “Still alright?”

“ _Fine_ ,” he said again, a little more harshly this time, and picked up the pace with his own palming of Lacer’s cock.  Lacer groaned and pressed forward, the tip of his cock brushing Scorpius’s thigh.  Freed fingers found his dark blond hair, gripping it and pulling back to bare his throat.  Lacer’s mouth found the pulse point there, underneath tender skin, nipped along before finding just the right spot to clamp down and suck.  A ragged moan escaped him, and his fingers tightened involuntarily around the shaft in his hand.  Lacer inhaled a strangled hiss, but it wasn’t an altogether displeased sound.

“Relax,” he urged, and Scorpius tried his best to comply, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.  The pad of his thumb skated over the tip of Lacer’s cock, and his unoccupied fingers fisted in thick, dark hair.  Lacer growled with restrained impatience and bit down on the curve of his neck. Scorpius yelped.

Again, Lacer’s hand found Scorpius, this time moving with more purpose on the sensitive flesh.  The noise that escaped the blond then was indescribable and it made Lacer hesitate.

“Sure you’re alright?”

“I’m _fucking fine_ ,” he cursed impatiently.  “Just _get on with it_.”

Lacer chuckled, clearly pleased with this reaction.  “You asked for it,” he said, amusement tickling his voice. “Turn over.”  Scorpius did so, alcohol and the strain of an erection harder than the hammer of a troll god dulling his inhibitions.

Lacer didn’t take his place right away.  A quick glance over his shoulder showed Lacer, now dispensed of his shirt and completely naked, fishing through another of Jared’s drawers. He returned with a plastic bottle of viscous fluid, and Scorpius’s eyes narrowed on it, his heart beating hard in his throat.  Numbly, he pulled his open shirt off his back, tossing it away.

He closed his eyes and turned his face away, feeling his skin flush with blood and the cold fist of anxiety crush his windpipe.  He propped himself up on one arm, one side of him still pressed into the rustled blankets on Jared Trice’s bed.  Lacer settled in behind him, mouth at his ear, chest against his shoulder blades, and knee nudging between his legs.

Lacer was murmuring something soothing to him, but Scorpius wasn’t really listening, far too distracted by the way his mind was running wild in his head. With a nudge, Lacer pushed his leg up until it was bent, providing more space, and then something solid and cool pressed against him.  He thought for a moment it was moving that quickly, and when Lacer entered him in one smooth motion, he breathed a sigh of relief.  It wasn’t that bad.  It was-

Just a finger.  Of course.

Lacer stroked in and out of him, finger slicked with lube, and added another digit when Scorpius began to wiggle under his touch, his ass pushing back against the other boy.  His breathing was growing ragged, his cock impossibly more stiff as it rubbed against the comforter. He wondered idly if it was possible to get rug burn this way.

“ _Ahhhh_ ,” he sighed.

The fingers were withdrawn and Scorpius’s hand curled around his erection, completely of their own volition.  He could feel Lacer’s chin on his shoulder, though his own eyes were closed tightly. He felt as much as heard the murmured, “Fuck, that’s hot,” which was followed by a much more significant prodding at his rear.

Instinctively, he ceased breathing, his eyes snapping open, and Lacer’s fingers pressed into the fleshy part of his ass for a better grip.  “Just breathe,” he instructed smoothly, like he’d said it a thousand times before.  “It’ll feel odd at first, but it’ll get better.”  Then the pressure there intensified steadily, increasing until he felt his skin stretch and strain, and he grimaced even with the benefit of the lubrication that salved the friction. Scorpius tried hard to remember to breathe, but it wasn’t as easy as it normally was, and he wasn’t used to having to remind himself to do something so natural.

The pain, thankfully, was fleeting, and then Lacer was all the way inside him, hissing expletives in his ear, and Scorpius exhaled a breath he hadn’t meant to hold.  Once he got more comfortable with the motions of it, he began to stroke himself, and he was surprised – floored, really – to find that once the odd pressure in his lower back became more familiar, the strokes of Lacer’s cock in and out of him were surprisingly pleasant.  Dirty, and wrong, but they still made him turn his head and groan deeply into the pillow under him.

They found a mutual rhythm, Scorpius arching back into Lacer’s thrusts, his back rolling with the movements, and Lacer’s hand gripped him tightly at the hip bone. He could feel hazel eyes staring down at the increasingly frantic movements of his hand, and when Scorpius came, he did it hard and fast, and made quite a mess of poor Jared’s bedspread. The clenching of his body during orgasm was too much for Lacer, and he followed swiftly thereafter, thrusting quickly three more times into Scorpius before he buried himself to the hilt and spurted his fluids deep into the other boy.

They separated and collapsed, breathless and sweaty.

  

* * *

  

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Scorpius came-to, not having meant to pass out. He felt a good deal more sober than he had before his little nap, although his head was still a bit fuzzy. It took him a few moments of blankness to realize he was naked, and then his stomach jumped into his throat. Dark grey eyes landed on Lacer, who was out-cold next to him.  The blanket on Jared’s bed was bunched at his waist, the curve of his spine swelling into his ass, and Scorpius jerked his eyes away, his cheeks burning with embarrassment and shame.

As quickly and quietly as he could, he slipped out of the bed and dressed. He must have neglected to check his reflection in the mirror, because within thirty seconds of him reappearing in the party, Seb had popped up in front of him, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

“Where’d you disappear to, eh?  You’ve been gone for nearly two -”  At the questions, Scorpius felt his cheeks heat again, and Sebastian’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, you got laid.”

“Seb, I –”

“Who is she?”  The excitement in his expression was undeniable.  Scorpius frantically began pressing down his hair, to repress any cowlicks that might have formed during the physicality earlier.  After a moment, he forced himself to meet Seb’s eyes, and tried to smile.

“I don’t know… just some girl.”  The lie escaped his lips before he realized he’d tell it.

Sebastian laughed.  “You son of a bitch.   Let’s get you a drink.”

“No, thanks,” Scorpius said fervently.  “I think I’ve had enough to last me at least a year or two. Can – can we go now?”

“What? Oh.”  Seb’s blue eyes fixed on him in confusion, then looked him up and down.  “Right. Best make yourself scarce before she comes-to. Get your coat, we’ll meet you at the door.”

While Sebastian went to find Julian, Scorpius grabbed his worn leather jacket off the living room coat racket, and shrugged it on.  He hovered in the doorway, his hand on the knob, ready to bolt at any sign of Lacer Putus, but he, Seb, and Julian, were long gone before Lacer even woke up.


End file.
